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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973118">We Could Just Say Goodnight If You Think That's Alright</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guy_Fleegman/pseuds/Guy_Fleegman'>Guy_Fleegman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, Comfort Reading™, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Literal Sleeping Together, No Slash, some language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:55:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guy_Fleegman/pseuds/Guy_Fleegman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Amanda fell asleep with one of her boys somewhere that definitely wasn’t a bed</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amanda Brotzman &amp; The Rowdy 3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Cross</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cross and Amanda sleep under the van.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While the other Rowdies caught a few hours’ sleep in the van, Amanda and Cross stayed outside throwing rocks at trees. A small pile of rocks waited at their feet and Amanda bent to grab a handful. Her shoulder twinged each time she drew it back to throw, but the satisfying thud of the rock hitting its target urged her to continue. She’d been telling herself ‘just one more’ for two hours.</p>
<p>The game started that morning when Vogel tossed a rock into the brush at the edge of their campsite. Cross saw and scoffed, tossing a larger rock farther into the brush. From there, as all things did with the Rowdy 3, it escalated. Now, just Amanda and Cross continued the game.</p>
<p>“Stupid rocks,” he said, sending another knocking into a tree. A hole had been chipped into the bark from where he kept hitting. “Could throw farther if they’d just <em>listen</em>.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Cross,” she said, chucking her own rock into the trees. She grabbed another and twisted it in her hand, her fingernails shedding the green polish Gripps had done a week earlier. “Why didn’t you head to sleep like the rest of the guys? I can entertain myself for a few hours.” She sucked in a breath. “I know you guys haven’t…eaten in a while, and that that makes you tired—”</p>
<p>“I’m having fun,” he said and shrugged. “Aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” she said. “I love hanging out with you guys. You guys are like, so crazy and do the weirdest bullshit, but I’m into it.”</p>
<p>He squinted into the tree line. “Can I tell you some weird bullshit then?”</p>
<p>She nodded, looking over at him. “Of course.”</p>
<p>The previously constant noise of rocks hitting wood stopped. “I sometimes get this…feeling. And when I get this feeling, I need to just be awake and alert and know where everyone is.”</p>
<p>“Is this like a universe thing?”</p>
<p>“Don’t think so,” he said. “Doesn’t feel the same.”</p>
<p>Reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder, she said, “That’s not weird, Cross. After what you’ve been through, I think you’re entitled to be a little paranoid.” She smiled. “If you want to talk weird, how about we talk about the fact that you hate peanut butter. I mean, you’re a certified freak.”</p>
<p>He barked a laugh and started throwing again. “Bold coming from you.”</p>
<p>Amanda laughed too and chucked a rock into a previously unharmed tree and as the rock struck its side, a rumble of thunder shook the air. She and Cross looked up. Last time she’d checked, the sky had been bright blue. A gray seeped in while she wasn't looking and she realized why her forehead hurt—she’d been squinting to see in the darker light without noticing.</p>
<p>Neck still bent backward, Cross stuck his tongue out. After a moment, he nodded and pulled his tongue back in. “It’s gonna rain. I can taste it. Tastes like rain.”</p>
<p>A cold splash dropped onto Amanda’s hand followed by two more. She wiped them away and the wet skin itched. She felt the pressure of more drops falling onto her hair</p>
<p>“Yes!” Cross shouted, jumping and raising his palms to the sky like he was summoning the rain himself. Freezing water pelted them at a rate that Amanda thought, if she really tried, she could dodge. Then, the downpour hit.</p>
<p> As if God emptied an endless bucket of water down onto them, Amanda and Cross drowned in the onslaught of rain. The water whitened the air and Amanda trudged carefully toward Cross. He laughed at the rain, having lowered his hands. Amanda balled her fist into his jacket.</p>
<p>“We’ve gotta get out of this!” she said over the rush of water. The rain muted her voice, but she raised it. “Back to the van!”</p>
<p>She yanked his jacket toward the van, streams of water running down her face, smearing her makeup over her cheeks. Her mouth opened to catch her breath and the pure taste of rain water sprinkled over her tongue.</p>
<p>Reaching the van, her hand halted over the handle. Cross shoved in close and yelled into her ear, “What?”</p>
<p>Spitting a mouthful of water out, she yelled back, “What about the guys?”</p>
<p>Not understanding the hold up, Cross threw his hands in the air in a question, flicking water against the van. Mud squelched under his shifting boots.</p>
<p>“If we go in there,” Amanda said. “We’re going to wake them up and they probably won’t go back to sleep.”</p>
<p>Earlier, she’d seen the way Martin’s eyes had stayed closed longer with each blink. The stifled yawns of Vogel as he sat in the van instead of climbing a tree or dancing. And when she won a round of chess against Gripps, she’d known he wasn’t at the top of his game.</p>
<p>She shook her head, her bangs heavy and matted to her forehead. “We can’t wake them up.”</p>
<p>“We can’t stay out here—it’ll wear a hole into our skulls. The Chinese used to do that as torture.” Cross moved a hand to guard his skull from the rain. “I’ve got an idea.”</p>
<p>The sad thing was, Amanda hadn’t seen a flaw in the plan. She followed him as he slid underneath the van and army crawled to the center. He rolled onto his back and wiped the rain from his face, replacing it with a smear of mud. Amanda settled next to him.</p>
<p>The cold mud hugged close to them. Amanda’s weight settled into it and the mud seemed to hold her in place, sucking her deeper into the earth. A few inches above her, the bottom of the van waited, the sharp smell of gasoline forcing its way up her nose. On the bright side, she might get high staying under there. She said as much to Cross.</p>
<p>“Safety first!” he said, yanking his arm from the mud’s grasp and fiddling with the underside of the van. Metal scraped and clanked as he messed around. When his arm dropped back into the mud, the smell had lessened. “Not enough for brain damage—just enough for trippy dreams. Goodnight!”</p>
<p>Amanda laughed, rolling her head to look at the water beating the ground beside her. Martin had parked the van on higher ground so she didn’t worry about water rising around them. She didn’t worry about much anymore. It was a nice feeling. She could do what she wanted, when she wanted, and knew she had a crew of psychic vampires who would back her up no matter what.</p>
<p>She rolled her head back to her companion. “Hey, Cross—"</p>
<p>He’d closed his eyes, still and quiet in a way he never would be when awake, and Amanda thought he looked the part of a vampire. She smiled at him and adjusted her head so she looked up at the van, clumps of mud making the back of her head heavy.</p>
<p>“Goodnight,” she said, closing her own eyes.</p>
<p>She woke to laughing. It felt like she’d been dozing for a few minutes, but the bright white of the world told her she’d slept all night. Her hand slammed into the bottom of the van as she moved to wipe hair from her face. Beside her, Cross stirred.</p>
<p>A clomping echoed near her ears and she twisted her neck to follow the boots from the driver’s seat to her left. Martin crouched and titled his head down to look under at her.</p>
<p>“Need some help there, Drummer?” he asked, glasses sliding to the edge of his nose.</p>
<p>Behind him, Vogel’s shoes left the ground and jolted back down as he jumped and laughed. “Drummer and Cross are stuck under the van!” he shouted to the trees.</p>
<p>“I ain’t stuck!” Cross shouted back, squirming in place.</p>
<p>“Mud’s pretty thick,” Gripps said, appearing on the other side of the van beside Cross. He plunged a finger into the mud. “Like if you stuck honey in the fridge for two and a half hours.”</p>
<p>“Can’t move,” Cross said, writhing around. “Screw this!”</p>
<p>Amanda tried rolling to her side, but the mud had solidified overnight and her hair and jacket stuck in it. She yanked her head up to free her hair and only realized why that was a bad idea after her head clunked into the van. “Shit!”</p>
<p>“Alright,” Martin said, standing back up. He whistled and Gripps backed away from the van.</p>
<p>Above them, the van growled to life and trembled. Amanda pressed against the ground, closing her eyes. She flexed her fingers, working feeling back into them as the van rolled forward, passing inches from her nose. The dark red behind her eyelids turned to pink and she opened them.</p>
<p>“Why’d you sleep under there?” Vogel laughed, offering a hand to her. Gripps made the same offer to Cross. “We had plenty of room in the van.”</p>
<p>She took it and hauled herself up. Her clothes felt stiff and glued to her skin, her leather jacket creaking as she moved her elbows back and forth. She spun around, holding the edges of her sleeves to Vogel, who took them and held as she twisted out of the restricting jacket.</p>
<p>“I was being polite and shit,” she answered, taking the jacket back and folding it over her arm. “Trying to, at least.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Vogel said. “Thanks then, Boss!”</p>
<p>She smiled. “No problem, Vogel.”</p>
<p>The van backed up into its previous position, mud squelching under the tires, smoke pumping from the exhaust. Reaching through the rolled-down window, Martin hit the side of the van.</p>
<p>“Let’s go, boys!”</p>
<p>Gripps slid the back door open and they each hopped in, Amanda hesitant to take the front seat, her fingers looped in the door handle, but not pulling. Martin ducked his head and peered at her over his glasses and the lowered window.</p>
<p>“Ain’t gonna ruin the upholstery, Drummer,” he said, leaning over and opening the door for her. He jerked his head toward the seat as he readjusted behind the wheel.</p>
<p>“Right,” she said, jumping in.</p>
<p>The boys, even Cross, seemed reinvigorated. The sound of loud, obnoxious laughter carried from the back and Amanda laughed along with them despite not knowing the context. There may not have been any.</p>
<p>A glance showed Gripps and Cross downing beers, and Vogel watching, perched on the edge of his bench. Their eyes glowed bright and their faces full of color. She turned back around, her neck twinging, and heard the crushing of cans and the shuffle to the cooler for more.</p>
<p>Beside her, Martin tapped at the wheel to the music. His eyes darted to each mirror almost as much as someone was supposed to while driving. The wrinkles in his clothes and the muss to his hair told Amanda he’d slept for a long time, and his easy smile told her he’d slept well.</p>
<p>The atmosphere no longer hung in the air, it glided through it. Vibrance. Amanda could feel the molecules in the air swirl around each of them. The broken A/C didn’t even bother her because the windows stayed down as they drove, the wind tussling the few strands of her hair that weren’t heavy with mud.</p>
<p>“We’ll get ya to a motel room with a shower,” Martin said.</p>
<p>“Perfect,” she said, stretching her arms above her head and cracking her neck. The sun warmed her skin and loosened her muscles. She drew her legs up onto the seat and curled onto her side, pillowing her head with her hands. The music, laughing, and breeze lulled her to sleep.</p>
<p>Martin smiled at her. “Sleep well, Drummer girl.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Vogel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vogel and Amanda sleep in a tree.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Just put your foot there, Boss,” Vogel said, jabbing a finger at a knot in the tree. Having given his instruction, he continued with his own ascent, fingers working into the grooves of the wood as he pulled himself up. A large blanket draped over his shoulder, flapping like a cape as he darted from one branch to the next.</p><p>“What, are you part monkey?” Amanda asked as she put her foot where indicated. When she put weight on it, her boot slipped down, wood tearing at the already frayed laces. She tried again. It stayed this time with much effort on Amanda’s part. Her legs shook as she stretched her arms to reach the first branch thick enough to support her.</p><p>“You’ve got it, Boss,” Vogel said from the top of the tree. “Almost there.”</p><p>Amanda’s hand curled around the branch and yanked herself up and on top of it. Straddling the first branch, she looked up and saw Vogel at the top. She shielded her eyes with a hand. “How’d you do that so fast?”</p><p>Glancing at the van parked a few yards away, she raised her hands in a question. Sat out front of the van, white smoke curling from his lips, Martin shrugged. From beside Martin, Cross and Gripps pointed and laughed at her. She flipped them the bird and searched for the next branch.</p><p>“Thanks a lot, Boss,” Vogel called down to her. “I mean, none of the other guys will try it out so I’m happy you will.”</p><p>“Of course, Vogel,” she said between gritted teeth as she pulled herself onto another branch. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and upper lip. “I’ve never really climbed a tree, so sleeping in one is kind of like jumping into the deep end of the pool, but I trust you.”</p><p>Her palms burned from scraping against the rough bark, and she reached up again. The dirt knocked loose from Vogel’s shoes sparkled as it drifted down and caught the setting glow of the sun. Amanda bit her lip and, with trembling muscles, methodically maneuvered herself higher and higher.</p><p>Resting her forehead against the bark, she took a few steadying breaths. “This is as far as I’m getting.”</p><p>A moment later, the branches next to her shook and Vogel sat there, feet kicking in the open air. Where Amanda’s hand stayed firmly around the tree, her weight balanced on the largest part of the branch, Vogel’s hands didn’t even touch the tree and he flopped on a dangerously thin branch. He’d wrapped the blanket around his waist and wore it as a skirt.</p><p>“Sorry,” she said, looking down. The grass seemed so still and quiet from up there; she’d guess they were twenty feet up.</p><p>“This is good,” he said, scooting closer. “You’re so cool, Boss! I promise it’s comfortable. It’ll be like, so awesome! You’ll see.”</p><p>His energy brought some to Amanda and she, with a daring mind, took her shaking hands away from the tree. Still looking down, she swayed her heavy boots back and forth before kicking them off and watching them fall and hit the ground with a dull thud.</p><p>Her peripheral caught movement by the van. Martin stood, halfway between the van and tree, gaze on them up in the tree. She mouthed ‘sorry’. He didn’t retake his seat, rather sauntered over to the base of the tree and leaned a shoulder against it, looking directly up at them.</p><p>“You’ve never fallen out of a tree while you slept before, right?” Amanda asked, adjusting in the crook of the branch she’d chosen.</p><p>He laughed. “Yeah, a lot. I once broke my arm.” He lifted his arm and showed her as if she could tell it had been broken at one point. “The guys didn’t let me up another tree for <em>months</em>. But don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”</p><p>She didn’t think any of them would. Images of her, weightless, falling to the ground, and the boys down there catching her, filled her mind. Or Vogel would keep an arm around her as they slept. No, falling wasn’t a real worry of hers.</p><p>The outside of her hands began to itch. A quick glance showed red marks on the skin and the culprit, flaunting its crime, crawling between her thumb and index finger. An ant. She flicked it.</p><p>“Look!” Vogel shoved a finger west.</p><p>The purple of the sky reflected in her eyes as the sun made its slow drop below the horizon. Leaning forward, she hugged the cold tree and let her eyes glaze over as the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. Gooseflesh prickled on her bare arms, the oppressive chill of the outdoors seeping into her bones. She didn’t move as her fingers and toes went numb.</p><p>Then, warm enveloped her.</p><p>Vogel fussed over the blanket, jerking it this way and that, tucking it under her chin and folding the excess fabric up onto her lap. The residual body heat from Vogel enhanced the warmness around Amanda. She balled some of the material into her hands and propped her head against the tree, the bark catching on her hair and yanking it whenever she shifted.</p><p>Above her, leaves rustled in the wind sounding more like waves than anything else. As the thought of an owl or squirrel entered her drowsy mind, something solid kicked at her foot. Eyes closed, brow furrowed, she sent a probing kick out. Her toes met rubber soles.</p><p>Vogel snickered and nudged her foot again.</p><p>Lines easing on her forehead, she continued the game of footsie with her eyes closed. The elevation made the air seem fresher, her lungs filling deeply with each breath, and she had the thought that her and Vogel were getting their air straight from the source: a tree. Her thighs had gone numb and she knew her back would kill her tomorrow, but it was worth it for the freshest air.</p><p>Their feet would sway in the open air after the other pushed it away. Amanda’s foot took longer and longer to respond, and then stopped, hanging like dead weight. Vogel took that as his cue to catch some shut eye himself. The only thing he’d be falling, was asleep. He took her hand in his. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Gripps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gripps and Amanda fall asleep in the library.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The library meant quiet, focus, and calm to Amanda. Before she got sick, she’d go there to take a break from her family and life. Grab a random book and relax in a chair for a few hours. After she got sick, the one thing she wanted to leave at home was the one thing she took with her everywhere. The library meant quiet and the Rowdies meant… not that.</p><p>“You wanna leave us?” Vogel asked, eyes heartbroken.</p><p>Amanda raised her hands. “No, no, I <em>love</em> you guys. I’d only be gone a few hours. I just… I’m a bit overwhelmed right now. It’s not easy going from having the tv on all day because you want to hear people’s voices to having four amazingly loud people around. You guys are welcome to come, but I don’t think it’d be your scene.”</p><p>“Our scene?” Martin asked, hanging out the door of the van.</p><p>“A library,” Amanda said, eyes flicking between the Rowdies. Vogel deflated at the word like the mere thought of a book sapped all the energy from him. Cross scoffed and shook his head, and Martin nodded. Gripps smiled though.</p><p>Amanda regarded them. “So?”</p><p>“I’ll go,” Gripps said. “I love words and I bet a library has a lot.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” Amanda said and laughed. She turned to the others and raised her eyebrows.</p><p>Martin stretched his arm out so his wrist rested on the steering wheel. Vogel and Cross shot a look at him as if he had the power to drag them to the library and force them to obey its rules. “I’ll drive ya, but you’ll have to forgive me for not coming with. Like you said, not our scene.”</p><p>“So, what happens if you’re loud?” Vogel asked on the way there. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and smiled up at her. The van jostled over a few potholes. “Do they have big guys with sticks there to toss you out?”</p><p>Amanda laughed. “Not the last time I checked. But there’s usually a mean old lady who will glare at you until you feel like tossing yourself out.”</p><p>“Nobody tossing me out,” Cross said, ready to fight an imaginary library bouncer. “If I were going, I mean, I could take ‘em.”</p><p>The van rolled to a stop, the passengers rocking forward with the movement.</p><p>“What time should we be back ta pick you up?” Martin asked as Gripps slid the back door open and hopped out, boots thudding on the asphalt.</p><p>Amanda shrugged her jacket on and stepped out. “Couple hours?”</p><p>“You got it.” The back door closed. “See you then.”</p><p>Inside, when the smell of books and dust hit her, the memories came rushing back. A familiar place she hadn’t known she’d missed just returned to her. Life with the Rowdies was the best life had been for her, but she mused on her past with rose-colored glasses. What a wonderful thing those times were, she thought, forgetting why she’d ran to the library in the first place then.</p><p>“What now?” Gripps asked, barely passed the threshold. Amanda knew he didn’t have to be invited in, but the thought occurred to her to do just that.</p><p>“We find a book we like and sit down and read it,” she said, her voice softer than his; soft in that almost reverent tone that possesses a person when they enter a library.</p><p>“Right,” he said, tone coming down to match hers. Libraries even had that effect on vampires apparently.</p><p>She resisted the urge to brush her hand along the hundreds of book spines she went by as her and Gripps wandered down the aisles. The Science Fiction aisle no longer interested her as her life had become far more engaging than any plots those books could hold. She didn’t linger in general fiction or Romance either.</p><p>“Which ones can we read?” Gripps whispered.</p><p>“Oh, whichever we want.” She looked over her shoulder. “Did you see something you wanted to read?”</p><p>He grabbed her hand and led her back to the Romance aisle and knelt immediately in the ‘S’ section. A small, beat-up paperback was presented to her with questioning eyes.</p><p><em>Gertrude Simpson presents ‘Cloaked Heart’ with returning Heroine Jenny Rine.</em> Between white lines of faded paper, the cover sported a scantily clad man and a woman wielding a sword. Amanda nodded.</p><p>Gripps carried ‘Cloaked Heart’ with him as Amanda perused the rest of the aisles. When they found themselves at the end of the last aisle, she shrugged.</p><p>“Let’s find somewhere to sit,” she said.</p><p>Gripps stared. “Don’t you need a book?”</p><p>“I came here for the atmosphere,” she said. “And since you have a book, they can’t kick me out. You’ll just have to read to me.”</p><p>Finding somewhere to sit proved a difficult task. The soft leather seats were all occupied by college students with earbuds in, old people peering down through their bifocals, and one child whose lips moved with every word she read.</p><p>Amanda glanced around the area. “Come on.”</p><p>Gripps furrowed his brow when Amanda brought him into a back aisle and plopped onto the flat carpet. When he didn’t follow, she waved him down. He dropped to the ground with much the same finesse she had.</p><p>“Alright,” she said, tugging her jacket off and settling it on her lap, her legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. “Read me some words.”</p><p>Adjusting so his back no longer pressed against a particularly unyielding hardcover, Gripps attempted to get into much the same relaxed position as Amanda, stretching his own legs out and moving closer so his and Amanda’s shoulders touched. He opened the book, the cover creaking as he did so, the front paper flaking off and dusting his fingertips pink.</p><p>“<em>’Jenny Rine’s honeymoon started with a gunfight, and ended worse</em>.’”</p><p>As Gripps read, Amanda let her eyes drift over the comfortable gray of her surroundings—gray carpet, gray shelves, gray ceiling. The bright colors of the books kept it from getting boring. She drew in a breath and let the haven-like quality of everything wash over her.</p><p>Gripps read in a soft voice that made Amanda smile. As her head got heavy, she dropped it down onto his shoulder. The words he read were perfect, but the story was lacking and Amanda gave up trying to follow the plot when the pirates showed up. The words were good though.</p><p>“<em>’Eric limped toward Jenny, the explosion almost catching up to him. He sure would miss Mount Rushmore he thought as Lincoln’s face burst into a million pieces</em>.’”</p><p>She didn’t know when it happened, but when she thought that Eric wouldn’t make it, she realized her eyes had closed at some point. She didn’t bother opening them. Gripps continued to read and with each word, her comprehension dropped.</p><p>“<em>’Next time, let’s just invite your mom to the wedding,’ Jenny said and laughed, kissing Eric.’</em>” Gripps closed the book. “That…was so good.”</p><p>Amanda didn’t respond. He felt a snore rumble through her chest and smiled. He leaned his head down and rested it on top of her head, her hair tickling his cheek. His focus honed in on the constant tick of an unlocated fan and the sniffles and turning of pages faded. The side of him touching Amanda was warm and he closed his eyes.</p><p>Things went gray for a bit.</p><p>Someone cleared their throat. Amanda squinted up at the looming figure, suddenly afraid of big guys with sticks who toss people out of libraries. She raised her hands in surrender, elbowing Gripps as she did so. Gripps shot awake, on his feet in a flash, leaving Amanda to tip over without the support of his body.</p><p>A fight didn’t break out above her, so scratch the library bouncer theory.</p><p>“Have fun?” Martin asked.</p><p>Eyes adjusting, Amanda saw Martin, his sides lacking two other figures. She raised her eyebrows, accepting the hands of Martin and Gripps, swinging her to her feet. As was habit, she brushed her clothes free of non-existence dust.</p><p>“Other two refused to come in,” Martin explained. “Place is too quiet for their liking.”</p><p>“Not yours?” Amanda asked as she and Martin followed Gripps.</p><p>“I do have the violent urge to shout and knock over these pleasantly placed shelves, yes,” he said. “But I can resist.”</p><p>“Amanda!” Gripps said, sliding the book back into its place. He looked up at her with awe. “There are others!”</p><p>Beside ‘Cloaked Heart’ were a dozen other books, all pastel covers, and all starring ‘returning Heroine Jenny Rine’. Gripps touched each spine, counting and reading the titles.</p><p>“If we were here longer, you could get a library card and read the entire series,” Amanda said, wondering when the next time was they’d stop at a library, running numbers in her head. They stopped mostly in wooded areas, preferring to avoid towns unless they needed supplies or to blow off steam; it could be a while before another library presented itself.</p><p>“Ok,” Martin said.</p><p>“Ok?” Amanda and Gripps asked in unison.</p><p>“Ok,” Martin repeated, stepping back, peering toward the entrance. “You get one of those cards at the desk over there?”</p><p>Amanda nodded.</p><p>“We ain’t got nowhere to be,” Martin said. “Plus, he’s a fast reader.”</p><p>Gripps practically bounced to the front desk and Amanda thought about how they’d get him a card when he had no address and no phone number. Still, stretching her muscles from her nap and stifling a yawn, she was glad she came to the library today.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from Ok by the Wallows</p></blockquote></div></div>
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